Chapter 2: Five Weeks Later
"Dear Ms. Gilbert,
We read your manuscript and while it has potential, it isn't in our best interest to publish your piece."
Elena took a swig out of the glass bottle on the table. The rum seared her throat as it traveled down to her stomach. She tossed the letter aside and picked up the next piece of paper on the stack in front of her.
"Dear Ms. Gilbert,
The manuscript you sent in isn't what our publishing house is looking for at the moment. Good luck on your future endeavors."
The paper shot across the room in a crumpled ball. Elena took another gulp from the bottle, kicking the stack of papers off the coffee table.
Thirty manuscripts to be sent to thirty publishing houses in thirty envelopes. Caroline had said at least one of them would bite. All of them had rejected her.
Her bottle of rum had run dry when she brought it to her lips. Shaking the bottle vigorously, she silently prayed that a couple drops would spill out. Nothing.
Shakily, she got to her feet, stumbling to the kitchen. On the marble counter was another row of bottles. Scotch, whiskey, vodka, schnapps. She grabbed the whiskey and used her free hand to help steady herself. The room was spinning and her head was filled with all the worthless words those publishing assholes had written.
Elena heard the front door being opened. Before she had to glance at the newcomer, she could smell the overwhelming scent of Caroline's perfume.
"What's going on here?"
The brunette emerged from the kitchen, her eyes focused on her hands trying to open the bottle. "They hate me."
Caroline rushed to Elena's side, snatching the bottle from her fumbling hands. "So you've decided to drink yourself into a coma?"
"No," Elena growled, locking bloodshot eyes with her friend. "I'm trying to make it go away."
"Make what go away?"
"My dream. It's a stupid dream. It needs to go away." She tapped her head. "But it won't."
"Oh, Elena," Caroline cooed, wrapping her arm over the girl's shoulders. "You don't need to give up. You've always wanted to be published. We can still make that happen. We'll just use compulsion on one of these sleezy assholes."
Elena threw Caroline off her. "No! No! That's cheating." She reclaimed the bottle from the blonde. "I dun wanna cheat. I wanna be loved for me." It took a lot of focus, but Elena managed to plop onto the loveseat in the living room. "I jus wanna be a good writer."
"You are a good writer," Caroline begged, kneeling in front of her friend. "You're an amazing writer. They couldn't have all rejected your story." She reached for the scattered letters on the blue carpet. "There has to be at least one acceptance letter."
"Nope," Elena whispered. "They ALL hate me. Every person hates me. I'm a terrible writer." She popped open the whiskey bottle and glugged the amber liquid down.
Caroline yanked it out of her mouth. "Stop it, Elena! This isn't how you should deal with this. Getting drunk doesn't make your pain go away."
Elena's eyes widened, filling with tears. "I'm a failure, Care. I've wasted fifty years of my life on a stupid dream. I've got nothing left to live for."
"Yes, you do," Caroline set down the bottle and joined her friend on the sofa. "There's one more letter we're waiting on."
That made Elena pause. She shook her head rapidly. "No. I got all of em back this week." She pointed at the pile of paper. "There's thirty right there."
"I sent out another one."
"Where?"
"Salvatore Books."
"Never heard of 'em."
"They've published a couple of my other authors. I know the Editor-in-Chief personally and I sent it to him directly."
Tears sprang from Elena's eyes. "You don't think I'm shit?"
Caroline shook her head, wrapping her arms around the crying girl. "No, 'Lena. I don't think you're shit."
They sat that way for several hours, separating when tears no longer ran from Elena's eyes.
Exhausted, the brunette squeezed her friend and sighed. "Thank you, Care."
"What are best friends for?"
Elena smiled, eyes clear and bright from her breakdown. "No, seriously. Thank you. You've been so supportive through all of this. What did I do to deserve such a supportive friend?"
The blonde wiped a stray tear from Elena's eye, smiling. "When you're not getting loaded, you can be a very good person, Elena. Undead or not, you have the heart of a saint. I love being your friend because you help me become a better person. It was you that helped me adjust to feeding from bags instead of the vein."
"Oh, speaking of which," Elena wriggled out of her friend's embrace and headed into the kitchen. She reached into the freezer and pulled out two medical blood bags. "Hungry?"
"Always," the blonde grinned, catching the bag Elena threw at her.
Tearing into the blood bag, Elena sat down next to Caroline, the friends sucking their meals in silence. As the crimson liquid drained from the plastic container, the color began to return to Elena's face. By the time the bag was empty, she was sitting up straight and smiling.
"Mmm, yummy," she purred, wiping some excess blood off her lips. "I forgot to feed today because of those." She pointed at the letters and threw the empty bag on top of them. "I still can't believe they all rejected me."
Caroline patter her friend on the back. "Don't worry. Salvatore Books is going to be your shot, I can feel it."
Elena turned to her, eyes wide. "You didn't try to pull any strings with them, did you? You don't compel them, right?"
Care shook her head. "Nope. The Editor-in-Chief is a vampire, like us. He's a lot older and knows his stuff. Every book he publishes becomes a best-seller. If, for whatever reason, he doesn't want to publish it, then at the least we can ask him how to make the book better." She rubbed Elena's knee. "Don't worry, Damon Salvatore is a very respectable figure in the publishing world."
A/N: Another kind of short chapter, sorry. One the bright side, Damon will be appearing in the next chapter.
Are you sad for Elena? Please review. :)
